The Witch
by PrettyPrettyShinyShiny
Summary: Calanthia, Hermione and Ginny survive the war- broken and scarred, having lost everyone. So they use a safety plan to go back in time to rebuild and reshape the future. And for a chance of happiness. They create a school, a girl's school. And when the tournament comes around and they demand entrance...Well. It'll be interesting.


**Disc.**- I don't, nor have I ever or will ever, own Harry Potter.

**This Story…**- Has some time-manipulation and Fem!Super!Harry. I'd like to think this is original, but if my belief is wrong, I apologize to anyone who thinks I took it. Not the school part- I've read a lot of stories with their own schools.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Calanthia gave a slow hum, sighing as she trailed elegant, nimble fingers across the plaque on the ground. The war had cost her almost everything- including her child, as her chin trembled as she looked down with sorrowful eyes. _'Anastasia Lily Bulstrode'_, the golden engraved words were glossy. She and Oulixeus had married as soon as she was fifteen (and emancipated)- much to almost everyone's consternation and outrage. Her sister-in-law, Millicent Bulstrode had been one of her strongest supporters. She choked on a sob, trembling as her hand fisted against the smooth stone. She was only seventeen now. Only two years since she married. Only a year and a half since she lost her husband. Only a year since she was jumped and lost the child. She slowly slid down, her breath coming between loud, devastated sobs, cries of despair and utterly black loss. Millicent had died to make sure she lived in the same attack. As did Ron, Tonks and Fred. Soon she felt a hand holding onto her shoulder and knew it was Hermione. Ginny had knelt behind her and wrapped strong wiry arms around her slender frame, resting her head on the older girl's head, shushing her gently.

xXx

At almost seventy-eight, Calanthia Potter finally destroyed Voldemort. All of him, every last part, every little piece. But now…There was almost no one left. After Voldemort had taken over Britain, he moved onto the rest of Europe. France lasted until the _bitter_ end- Voldemort had sent it deep into the sea, destroying everything and everyone in it. _Everything._ He moved onto other continents. Destruction and ruin lay in his wake, and Calanthia was _tired_. She was tired of everything and she wanted to join her family- the Weasleys, Longbottoms, Changs and everyone else. But her baby...She wanted her baby _so much_. To see her. _Hold her_. The woman, who looked not a day over thirty-seven disregarding the silver at her temples (expanded lifespans had as much to do with it as her mastery of Death did), turned. Dead eyes, dull and piercing green, looked to her two closest friends. Her only living friends. Hermione's honey-colored eyes were hard like amber as she stared at the ashy remains of the Darkest Dark Lord in history. In contrast, Gin's deep cinnamon colored irises burned in smoldering fury as she kicked at the dead and mutilated body of Calanthia's once-upon-a-time husband. Oulixeus. She should have listened to Remus and Sirius, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. To everyone really. When she found out he was still alive-

Well. She had lost the will to live. To fight. Before, she still had Mione and Gin after everyone died. The thought that the beast Voldemort had caused it all had kept her anger, her fury and her outrage, her hatred. What allowed her to mercilessly torture, kill, and interrogate over the years. What the war has made her into. But the sight of him- and she knew it was him. She'd always know that face- the first person to see her and not her titles. The first who didn't glance at her scar. She was stupid. So fucking _**stupid**_. But she had crumpled right there. In front of the Dark Lord, her eyes staring dully at him. His face was hard and he wasn't smiling. His jaw was clenched and he wouldn't look at her body- cuts and blood everywhere, bruises and pain, burns- his eyes remained with hers. Dark eyes, concealing everything. Voldemort had laughed and waved him forward and he took slow heavy steps until he was in front of her. He didn't speak. Didn't show any emotion. He drew his long powerful leg back slowly. And when it hit her she was thrown back as more agony exploded through her senses, through every nerve as he came upon her again. She couldn't make a noise- her throat was torn up and bloody. To this day she still has the scars. Jagged and ugly. She could relive what he did again and again. _Over_ and _over_ and _over _and_ over_…

"We could go back.", her voice was a whisper in the breeze that brought only the stench of death- rotting corpses, burnt flesh and overwhelming metallic blood over vomit and excretions. "Do you remember? That spell? We could go back…Could change everything…"

"The timeline-", Hermione began, looking up at her sharply but Ginny gave an inhuman roar, tearing into his dead body. "The timeline,", Hermione began again.

"What? What about it?", her voice was trembling and her magic flared out, lashing and angry and seething. "I think it's beyond the timeline now! It's gone! _There is no timeline because __**no one is fucking here!"**_

Her voice was still raspy and weak, even after three years. After finding out he was alive. Alive this _entire fucking time_.

"If we go back,", her voice returned to a whisper, "If we go back, then we could fix _everything_. Save so many…So many people…", she shivered continuously, wrapping her arms around her thin body. Her body was dying. She had stopped eating almost a week ago, and even before she rarely ate, too consumed with anxiety and bouts of madness that were slowly increasing.

xXx

Only three days later they had everything they had left. It was a pathetic, how little it was. Well, except for the galleons. They had more than anyone could use. After everyone died, well…They were left everything. Even the most distant connection was used and they had everything left. Almost all of the galleons not only from Europe but other countries. Because they were some of the last magic folk left. In the wars, the muggles had found out and had waged their own wars in the midst of the ones already going on- and were crushed by the magic-weilding opponents. Their planet was dying. Everything was dying or dead. Their options were to kill themselves, or go back and prevent as much loss as possible. Their shredded, last bits of morality had won out over their agony and pasts. Calanthia fiddled with her ring. The ring he gave her all those years ago. She'd never get rid of it. _Ever_. It wasn't her wedding ring- she'd thrown it into the sea after escaping and finally going into an inconsolable rage. No, it was the ring he gave her when he learnt she was pregnant with their child. With Anastasia.

They would be going back far enough that Albus will have just gotten into school. And they couldn't do anything yet. No, instead they would create their school. A finishing school for girls. Pure, half or muggleborn. There would be standards of course- a certain power level, certain cores, certain leanings. And in order for them to pluck them before anyone else could, any other school could, they would send out letters when their prospective pupils were only eight. And at the usual age of seventeen- they'll graduate. Two years more than the other three magical schools and for good reason. It was decided on the plan of action. They would leave important figures alone- hire retired Unspeakables (Calanthia was one for a while- and she had access to the files on them through the years- something no one was supposed to have) or aged Mistresses for professors (the staff is to be female-only; something bound to be controversial to those who knew of it). While they would sell it as a Finishing School for girls, most would think about etiquette, homemaking, things like that with their standard education. And while it would teach girls old traditions and mannerisms, everything a lady should know, it won't be prominent. No, dueling and magical prowess were what they were focused on- creating warriors and Mistresses, prominent and powerful women. It might speed up more women's rights in Britain. Britain was still struggling with it back when Calanthia had first arrived. Not quite equal yet.

Hermione's more feminist ideals and Gin's need for equal chance for duels and hate of prejudice by the fact she was a girl certainly didn't hurt either. Calanthia let them do most of that stuff- but ultimately she was in charge of what went and what was taught. And they still had to actually build the school. The girls knew stronger things, newer things that wouldn't happen for a century or so. Power and spells beyond this time.

Their school wasn't going to be a castle like Hogwarts. It wouldn't have the magnificence and ethereal glow. It was a citadel- with the dorms separated not by year or house- but by nationality and language. There would be five citadels of reasonable size for the girls to reside in, the younger they were, the closer to the front and ground floor they were. Each girl would have her own space to customize as she chose- all of it outfitted in things from their time to maximize their comfort. Then there would be the school itself. It would be a fortress, winding and confusing yet the architecture would be blunt while the design would be elegant. It would be elevated and the girls would have to walk up a long way to get there unless they have brooms- which are a privilege to be earned after a quick class at the beginning of their first two years there. The girls would also be given special bags with which to carry everything they need and may want to bring.

Bluestone- it was what the three women were going to build the school with- and magical coral will be creating the dorms. The reason for the rather ostentatious building materials was that their school…

Will be hidden in the water. Off of Greece, actually and still well within European limits because of it- though not quite yet, as Greece only officially became part of the Council of Europe in 1949. It was warmer and the water was beautiful there, clear and blue where they were going so the sun shines down and creates a wavering light for the girls. Something like the bubblehead charm- on a much stronger and much sturdier scale and more a ward to go along with the other intricate ones that will be woven in. Everything would be surrounded by a physical wall of more natural coral along with an underwater lava sight not too far off.

Either way, it was going to be quite the undertaking and would take at least a decade to make, even with their advanced magic and intelligence. But when it was finally finished, it would indeed be magnificent. Until then, it was time to invest…

xXx

Their school was registered- names changed (though for Calanthia it was only temporary- she worked, at the moment, as Hermione's assistant) and were now receiving the first tentative girls after sending out their letters. There were, at the moment, only two hundred or so girls from all over Europe (the Europe they knew, including lands not yet associated with them). They had several other professors there with them, some of which were instantly recognized as women with great rank (not nearly as high as the men but grudgingly respected by them) and a few more that were the equivalent of Unspeakables from the different countries that made up their own Europe.

Sylva's Finishing School for Advanced Witchery could now begin- with Headmatron Hermia (a variant on her name) Sylva, assistant matron Dorea (a nod to her paternal grandmother) Meliflua standing in front of the rest of the women who were brought in to teach. Genevieve Pyrites, the Offensive Charms professor and one of the decided leaders of their soon to start dueling club, stood just behind them with her arms crossed over her chest.

Several other professors looked on at the girls curiously, at the many eight year-olds before them. They were wearing black and a reddish-purple plum color- the school colors. Black robes weren't too loose, as they didn't want the girls tripping, and the purplish ribbons tied neatly around their necks (charmed to fix itself perfectly) matching the ones that some girls wore in their hair, others having it tied around their wrists and a few wore them as headbands. The robes would change each year. This year they were relatively roomy and solid black. When they went into their second year, the wide sleeves would taper a bit and the robes would have one purple-red symbol- a metallic flower bud. And as they went through the years, it would bloom into a datura flower. Which, according to the Victorian Language of Flowers, meant disguise. Hermia thought it was a nice fit. And as they got older, the robes would be more formfitting.

"I welcome you to Sylva's Finishing School for Advanced Witchery- where you will spend the next nine years learning all there is for a successful witch to know. As you can see around you, our school is located in the water, deeply enshrouded in magic and power. And you girls have the pleasure of being the first of this school's students. The professors behind me will be your mentors and everything they teach you will be for your safety and advancement into society beyond you."

xXx

"Excuse me, Professor Meliflua,", came the polite greeting almost twenty years later. The green-eyed woman turned to her, seeing a Ninth-Year gliding closer. This particular woman would be going into Herbology and breeding after graduation. She turned to the teenager silently. She gave a short bow in respect and she tilted her head down in acknowledgment. "I was hoping that you may perhaps offer a recommendation?"

"And who would it be I am addressing this recommendation to?", her voice was a soft rasp yet and she always wore a scarf to hide her heavily scarred throat. Headstrong blue eyes looked at her.

"The Confederation of Wizards."

xXx

"Are you sure about this?", Hermia asked her, eyes hard as ever with memories swirling in them. Genevieve stood leaning against the door, watching the tiny four year-old look around with wide green eyes that looked frightened and innocent. The woman known as Dorea had the girl in her lap, stroking the unruly inky locks. The little girl clutched at her.

xXx

Girl had no idea what was going on, but that tall lady's words and face scared her- they looked so serious and angry when she saw her. And the woman with the bright scarlet hair kept keen brown eyes on her and she wasn't sure what to make of them. Then there was the tiny lady who held her that took her from Sir and Ma'am. She was very nice and gave her a strange sluggish drink that made her feel much much better than she ever had before. She had very long hair in a very long braid, and there was shiny grayish hair at the sides of her head and her big eyes were a duller shade of green than her own. She wasn't sure what was going on, but the woman seemed to like her. Maybe it was her mum and she came to whisk her away? She looked up at the woman, hoping that it was her mum and that she would finally have a family. The woman seemed to notice her attention and gave her a very small smile, comforting her silently as she stroked through her short messy hair. She clung a bit more, involuntary as she relaxed in her arms.

xXx

Luminescent green eyes opened as soon as they were able and she sat up, ignoring the lingering aches and pains that the earlier potion didn't fix. She looked at her two closest friends before looking down at her own body. Much smaller- and she immediately noted hormone changes. When she quirked her eyebrow, it didn't feel quite perfected as her own was. "This will take some getting used to.", the child's voice and strength startled her into jolting, making Gin crack a smile, eyes getting a touch warmer as Hermione immediately tended to the small body with nutrient potions and scar creams.

xXx

Calanthia narrowed potent green eyes, watching the class through demanding and shrewd eyes. No one saw her of course- hidden safely behind a one-way mirror. Something they designed for every classroom, whether it was a portrait, tapestry or mirror. All could be seen through the secret passages. Said passages only known to her, 'Mia and 'Vieve. Well, the Goblins too, but they'd never tell. Her small six year-old body had more power and possessed more skill than most of the girls would ever learn- never mind they were a highly advanced school and pushed the girls beyond what their believed limits were. And by believed, she meant what men thought of a woman's core magical prowess. She was actually quite disgusted that she never noticed it in her own time- being as busy and famous as she was. Few women ever held Minister position, and much fewer got higher jobs. Many of the old bloods were expected, after marriage, to become housewives. Hostesses and childbearers, and if they did pursue professional careers, it was generally as Healers or secretaries. Some did, of course, become things like Aurors or Department Heads, but that was few and far in between.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind (this body was not yet able to learn Occlumency), she continued to scrutinize the class.

xXx

She looked around at her new yearmates and dorm partners. She immediately recognized them all. After all, three were prisoners that were degenerated and mind-wiped- including Bellatrix Black. She believed, due to the implanted memories, that she was an orphan and raised in France, with her father being Regulus. They hadn't found the man's body yet and had no idea when he had died after all. Then there was also Timothea Nott- another Pureblood put in for having the Dark mark and being a blatant Death Eater. While the Notts had bailed their son (who would be Theo's father) they had left their daughter to rot. The auburn-haired girl now believed she was the woman's daughter, named in honor of her mother- which wasn't so uncommon for a Death-Eater's child. And the third prisoner from Azkaban, Isidora Rosier, wasn't a Death Eater but a black widow. Seventeen husbands- all died of seeming accidents or natural causes. A very pretty woman and now girl with her soft gold locks and deep blue eyes, dimpled smile and all. Then there were the real girls- girls meant to be their ages. And in her dorm (thirteen to a room for the British Isles, many girls come from there), she knew almost all of them personally. The two she didn't- Tisiphone Macnair and Sophronia Urquart- were in Durmstrang the first time around. Others- Su Li, Millicent Bulstrode, little Ginny and Hermione, Mandy Brocklehurst, Megan Jones, and Demelza Robins- were all in Hogwarts. Even if Ginny was originally a year below her. But this school, their school, accepted eight year-olds as late as August 12th, a day after the redhead's birthday.

Calanthia hummed to herself, resting on her round bed, her trunk sitting against the wall beside a vanity. The large room was rounded with pretty, dainty screens dividing each girl's space. Each year, for each dorm, got their own shower rooms and bathrooms. Some girls were talking nervously, a few reading and two were exploring the room itself. The first one to speak to her was Megan Jones, her pale golden hair cut boyishly short and sticking up everywhere. Her bright blue eyes were curious and brave. It made the secretly older girl smile. If she recalled, Megan Jones was a Hufflepuff- just as brash as any Gryffindor but far more stubborn and very hard-working and loyal.

"Hi! I'm Meggy. What's your name, then?", she asked, climbing up on the silk plum sheets (they changed based on the girl's preference) and plopping herself next to the small quiet girl. Megan was very curious- as the girl was already here when they all arrived.

"Calanthia. Calanthia Potter.", she offered and Megan's blue eyes went wide.

"Really? That's bloody wicked!", she grinned widely, showing perfectly white teeth. "I heard all about you, y'know!"

"Oh, I don't know about that…"

xXx

"What do you think?", Demelza asked her, walking with her to their first class- their Lady Lessons. "What classes did you choose?", Demelza was a darker-skinned girl, with intelligent dark eyes and a love for creatures- which was to be expected. Her family did, after all, own a major breeding estate- one of the biggest for winged horses in the hemisphere. Calanthia- Thia as she insisted, looked to her for a moment and taking a second from Megan's constant excited chatter.

"After this?", she pulled out her parchment to hand to the other girl who compared it with her own. She smiled brightly when they had several classes together. There were limited choices for firsties like them, but a lot more than most other schools allowed- and they started at _eleven_. Demelza was happy- she had taken a liking to the sort of solitary other girl. And while Jones was a bit annoying, she didn't much mind the blonde. Better than that other blonde- _Urquart_. She was a weird one and not in the good way. She felt her face screw up just thinking about it.

Thia tugged her arm gently, guiding her two new friends to their first class. She wouldn't be closest friends with Ginny and Hermione- she had her own. No need to bring in their innocent selves- it was a debate on even bringing them to this school rather than leaving them to Hogwarts.

As they walked in, the older woman gave them sharp, appraising looks, as though determining their worth right then and there.

This would be a rather fun year.

xXx

It was several years later, at twelve, that their training was kicked up to Auror levels. Careful Core conditioning had been done in their first four years, along with body training. Mostly easy stretches and flexing things. Keep bodies toned. Aside from the sports played- things like Shuntbumps for the younger students, winged-horse races, Wizards' Chess, Aingingein, and of course- Quidditch. Those were only the most popular. There were academic clubs beyond that, of course.

And Dueling. The first, second and third years are forbidden from participating but allowed to watch. From then, there are several duels going on at once, all ranging through the years. And every month, the top duelists would go up against one another. Calanthia typically refrained from it- even though it was almost absurdly popular. It was something of pride for them.

Demelza bumped into her playfully, breaking her from her thoughts with a smile. "So I tried out for Quidditch-", she grinned broadly. "And Veron said it was likely I'd be on the Britain team!", she nearly sqeauled.

"Pfft! My spot was already guaranteed!", Megan piped in as she joined them. "Auntie was my teacher.", she smirked proudly. "And I'm going for dueling!"

"Yes, well not all of us leech off fo our family's coattails!", Demezla hissed at the blonde, who turned a venomous glare on her. The two were fierce rivals, at the best of times ignoring eachother or sniping, and at worst they'd get into fights- physical or magical. She hummed between them, taking a speedier step to bring their eyes and attention back to her. "So are you signing up for anything?"

"Hm? Oh, no no. I'm focusing on my studies. I have all advanced classes, you know that."

"Genius, you are."

"Madness and genius have a fine line between them, you know.", Calanthia offered lightly. She defly dodged a running girl. Hermione, actually, laughing as she caught up with her own friends, French-girls Fifi Evette, Cerise Maude and the Chinese Yingtai Xue. Calanthia was happy that Hermione had such accepting friends. She had such a hard time at Hogwarts because she was Sorted into Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw. And this Ginny also seemed much happier- without her brothers and name shadowed over everything, and then this year would've had Riddle's diary and her possession. But here she was happy and as headstrong as ever. It was that trait that made some of the older girls hang around with her and Efimiia Anasim, a girl from Russia.

Bringing her stray thoughts back, she hummed, pulling out a chocolate wand (with almonds, of course) for Demelza and a packet of Fizzing Whizbees for Meg. Both were snatched out of her hands with hurried thanks. She smiled a little, pulling out her own sugar mouse as it sqeauked and wiggled in her hand. Meg's hand gripped the hem of her sleeve as she floated a bit- a side effect of her candy. They made their way to the meal hall. It was large and colorful- girls came and went, and strange dishes abound. Delicacies like dragon meat or a fine wine for the older girls made with a very small but potent amount of Thestral blood. Or the foreign dishes. Always fun.

Meg and Demelza once more had a small tug-of-war as to who she would sit with. She waited patiently until Meg won. She blew a raspberry at the darker girl, who bristled angrily before huffing.

"I'll see you in Advanced Arithmancy.", she offered the smallest of their trio before gliding off to sit with her own group of friends. Meg grinned triumphantly, pulling her over to her table.

"Ah...Looks like we get Potter today.", Annette Louvel smiled, the French in her voice not as strong as it was their first year, now instead having cultivated, like most other girls in the school, a fluency in many languages. Liling Qiang offered her a tray as they got up to go to the serving lines. House-Elves weren't used here. Instead, the girls got up and cleaned after themselves. Taught more discipline, and encouraged them to learn thorough cleaning charms. Anneke Adalwulf was the first to return to the table to plop down. She got whatever was closest and piled her tray full to inhale it all. Rheia Nikias was the pickiest eater of their table and Varinka Kir was right behind her- though she only ate foods from her darling Russia. But soon seven chairs were filled by the Fifth years. She still found amusement in that- twelve year-olds being Fifth years.

xXx

She frowned a little, looking at the small group of older girls. Well, she'd certainly never encountered girls quite like this in her own school, in all the years of being here. Never met girls so entitled and blatant in their disdain. The corners of her lips tugged down a little more.

"Well Potter?", one sneered. Felcite Morrow, if she recalled. Intelligent enough, strongest subject being Transfiguration, weakest Potions. She felt her fingers twitch and had a strong urge to twist her ever-present ring. She hated being talked down to. It made her..._Angry_. Keeping her temper down (she'd had plenty of time, enough years of pain that her patience was saintly), she said nothing. They didn't seem to take kindly to that, as wands soon slipped into their hands. Ah. Clearly they hadn't decided to take the Wandless classes then. Foolish of them. Though one girl did seem to have a bracelet focus rather than a wand.

She should make the Focus and Wandless classes mandatory. It would certainly boost her girls. Yes, she would make them mandatory, starting this year. Dark, malicious hxes and curses shot at her, accurate and in quick succession. She was pleased at this, even as her shield made itself known as it absorbed them harmlessly. It was a simple little thing, old Parselmagic. And it only needed to be used once to be in permanent use against ill-intented spells. Powered on the spells it absorbs, and the stronger the incantation, the better.

The girls didn't seem deterred by it, only further incited. Becoming a tad bit annoyed and frustrated with them (they'd been taught better at this school than to revert to petty behavior like this), her left fingers twitched, making translucent luminescent shackles snap menacingly around their wrists, quickly pulling them up to the ceiling high above them. She tsked them quietly. Content that there were no watchers for this little performance, she simply glided off after casting an absent silencing charm over their loud shouts and yelling. How uncouth of them.

xXx

"Will you ever tell us where you got that?", Demelza asked curiously as she watched her bestfriend fiddle with that ring. It was very fine and archaic looking, delicately designed and carved, with a jewel she was unfamiliar with set in it. It shimmered in multiple colors.

"Maybe.", the fifteen year-old said simplistically before looking over at her from under dark lashes. Demelza frowned a little, sighing loudly as she slumped on the other girl's dark sheets.

"That's what you always say!", she whined, clinging to her arm. The smaller girl only shot her an amused look. Demelza pouted in response before brightening. "Hey! Still coming with me for break?"

"Wouldn't miss it, 'Elza.", she offered her pinkie, which she took in her own before they burst into childish giggles. Meg's arrival consisted of her jumping on the bed and knocking the other two to their sides as she smiled a toothy, brilliant smile.

"My mum and da' want to meet you!", she burst happily.

"She's coming with me,", Demelza scowled immediately, pushing her dark braid (as she usually wore it to bed to get her curls in the morning) over her shoulder. Meg frowned at her.

"She goes to your place _every year_, Robins. I think it's only fair that I get a few fair turns yeah?"

"Yes, well this year, mother's hosting a grand gala-", she began dreamily, a distant look overcoming her as she thought of the grandeur and the inevitable boys there. Meg interrupted her before she continued, bright blue eyes blazing a little in indignation.

"If you'd recall, my family is always on the invitations list! You'll see her anyhow!", the blonde crossed her arms over her chest as she kneeled on her bed. 'Thia remained quiet, a slight smile trying to come out though she kept it valiantly tamed.

"Well your parents could just as easily meet her there.", Demelza shot back with a sniff.

"No, and you bloody know it you prissy wanker!", Meg snapped, and Demelza gasped before anger bloomed in her dark eyes and she grabbed for the other. This is where Thia decided to intervene, seperating them with a wave of her wrist.

"Ladies! I'll simply split my time between you."

"What? But _Thiaaaaaa_...", Demelza began.

"No fair! She gets to keep you every year!", Meg piped in. Thia hummed.

"Megan, it's somewhat of a custom that I go to Demelza's home. Demelza- Meg has a point.", she said with a knowing look. "I'll see you both as it is. Now, who am I going ho with first?"

"Oh! Oh, me! I need you there as we prepare!", Demelza insisted. Megan huffed but didn't deny her claim.

"Very well then. You see now, that wasn't so hard was it?", she smiled at them. And that was how the following years would go- the first third of vacations being spent with Demelza, the second with Meg and the third was for herself. And it would stay that way until they were sixteen.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Well, I added something new. I should really prioritize...I hope I can keep up with myself...


End file.
